


Vanquished

by stacy_l



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Drama, M/M, Non-Consensual, POV First Person, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Content, Vignette, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 17:48:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3987169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stacy_l/pseuds/stacy_l
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apophis took more then his wife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vanquished

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in April 2007.

Bowing my head I softly reply, “Yes Master,” before I am abruptly dismissed. As I turn to leave the room I hear a soft, “Villein, come.” The address makes me shudder, but I turn back and approach. It’s then that he pulls me to him boldly kissing me in front of an audience, and I allow it for I no longer seem to have any shame. When the kiss ends he gazes at me with heated eyes, eyes that tell me of what he expects. Recognizing his hunger I swallow hard, trying desperately to ignore the knots presently forming in my gut. I lower my gaze and speak, “I will be ready, Master,” before bowing again as he quietly dismisses me. 

As night falls he comes to me. I know what he wants, what he expects by the look on his face, in his eyes. Slowly I remove my robe allowing it to drop to my waist thus exposing my upper body to him. He gazes in admiration and again the knots begin to form in my stomach, tighter and tighter they clench making me so very afraid, so very angry, so very ill, but I can’t resist. If I do I will be disciplined by my lord and master. I will pay a penalty that is much too high, so again I ignore how my stomach rebels swallowing back both the bile that wants to appear and the pride that I had at one time possessed. 

As he approaches me he orders me to fully disrobe then urges me onto my stomach. As I comply he lowers onto me, his clothes now gone, nothing existing between us but air and skin. As he slowly enters I tense forcing myself to breathe slowly and deeply. I force my mind to another time, another place as he begins to ride my unwilling body to the heights of euphoria using it to obtain his own pleasure. When he finally comes I physically shudder. He believes that I have enjoyed the exchange, but he is wrong for all I have done is allow my shame, my disgust borrow deeper within. 

As he withdrawals he orders me to turn onto my back and face him. He smiles broadly, for he has been satiated, and as he tells me that he is pleased with me I answer with a quiet, “It pleases me to serve you, My Lord Apophis,” but only to appease him further… 

He stole my wife. He stole my happiness. He stole my life, and he stole my soul. I’m nothing now except for a pretty toy for him to play with. My wife has passed and I’m grateful that she cannot see me now, see how I so willingly serve the only master I have ever known. I’m no slave yet I am owned, branded by the serpent god who stole my life and my freedom in one fell swoop. The others they have forgotten me by now. They would be ashamed of me I’m certain. They would be ashamed that I serve my master in every capacity. I have no other choice I fear, for he will destroy them all if I don’t surrender. 

Tears pierce my eyes as I think of the one in his dungeon who is forced to remain there constantly wondering what has happened to a man he had once cherished and loved. When I do manage to visit him I only see sadness, so much sadness as he reaches out to cup my usually bruised cheek. He tells me I shouldn’t tolerate it. I should fight. I should forget about him and escape on my own, but that I just can’t do. 

I have tried numerous times to help him flee, to help him escape but he refuses to leave. He tells me, “Not without you, Daniel, not without you,” and I smile sadly as I’m surprised to hear my name spoken. I have not heard it for some time having been constantly addressed as “slave”. It is my master’s way of reminding me I’m no longer free. I am his precious slave, his beautiful slave, his disobedient slave but never am I “Daniel” to him. He has stripped me of my name saying that I don’t deserve one, for dirty filthy slaves have no names. We are nameless, faceless. We have no life of our own. We are owned. We are property. We serve or we suffer. We serve or we die. 

As I turn to him now pure rage fills me and I again put voice to that which I feel lashing out at him with venomous words laced in so much fury, “I hate you.” 

He smiles, that evil smile that looks more like a snarl, before a vicious hand comes across my face setting my nose to bleeding as he reminds, “Be mindful of how you speak to me, slave, or he will suffer in your steed.” 

And so I fall silent, my eyes lower and ash fills my mouth as I softly reply, “I am sorry, My Master. I shall endeavor to do better with controlling my emotions.” 

He reaches out with his pointer finger and places it firmly over my lips as if to silence me before responding with, “Yes you shall. Yes you shall, villein,” and my rage burrows deeper, boiling beneath the surface, churning and eating away at my very soul… 

My life is no longer my own. I serve in chains to my master though none adorn my body, except for a collar he uses to mark me as chattle, as his. I am bound to him through invisible cord that traps me in a life, in a fate not my own. I’m trapped in servitude, indentured for life, and as he points emphatically towards the wall I rise and approach it. Placing my hands firmly against the cool surface above my head I stand spread eagle offering my back to him for punishment. As he rises I tense in preparation knowing what is to come. 

And as his belt finds me I bite my tongue closing my eyes and lowering my head as I think of the one I love above all others, and the pain it will cause him to see that I have been beaten for my transgression yet again.

 

** The End **


End file.
